How To Save A Life
by Shiverpass
Summary: Completed! She was invisible, he wanted to fly. Carson was on the brink of despair when Angeline came into his life. Who knew that all it took was for one person to change the fate of another? Carson/OFC where a lot of things are changed and rewritten. T for language and future mild sensuality.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I just got done watching Struck By Lightning and let me say. Chris Colfer was perfection in that movie. And it wasn't just because of him that I liked the movie, I actually sat down and enjoyed the plot and the things that happened in it. So I thought up a story idea. Hope you all enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** I own _nothing_ but the characters that you don't recognize.

* * *

"_In the end it's not about what you have.  
In the end it's all about where you wanna go,  
and the roads you take to help you get there.  
I hope you think that's fair.  
'Cause you've only got one life to lead,  
so don't take for granted those little things.  
Those little things are all that we have."  
- A Day to Remember_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Invisibility. In some parts of life, it can be a good thing. In other parts...a bad thing. But when it comes to high school, it can be either or...I guess. My name is Angeline Corter and it's my senior year in high school at Clover High School. I've never left town, and nether has my father (and probably the same with all of my past family members). This small town, Clover, is all that we've ever really known.

Throughout my twelve years in school, I've been invisible. You might as well have called me the Invisible Girl from the Fantastic Four (minus all of the awesomeness), but the only problem was that I've never _made a difference_in anyone's life. It didn't come by choice. It was just the way things were for me. I never complained, there wasn't use for it, and over the years, it had become my own personal comfort...a shield, in a way.

Nobody made fun of me like they did with that Carson guy and that Malerie girl. I was fortunate. But was the times when someone accidentally bumped into me without even saying sorry or sat on me only to laugh at me that made the whole idea of being invisible something dreadful to deal with.

Aside from the invisibility, I was just one of your average teenage girls. I got average grades, I had an average attitude towards everyone around me, and I had an average lifestyle. I always had. And throughout the years, my father, who had been an A+ student himself, had accepted my "failure to ace" (so he would call it). I was only good in four of my seven classes. Drama, Creative Writing, English, and Art. Science was too difficult for me to ever comprehend and I had ended up barely making it by in my math class. History was my only average class. I did poor on tests, but the homework and in-class work had always been easy enough for me to complete and turn in on time. At least I was president of the Art Guild...until it got canceled near the end of my Sophomore year.

Maybe I should have joined the actual Drama club. Or maybe I should have joined cheerleading...or maybe even the school's newspaper editorial, but the last thing I would ever dare to do was wave pompoms around while getting checked out by perverted, parasitic football jocks whose IQ was probably too little to consider being a legit number or write something that wasn't a story.

Writing is my passion. It has been since I could even remember and I just know that it's what's going to be my future.

It's Senior year, so naturally everybody's already making plans for what they're going to do after high school. Some want to get a degree in law, some want to get some sort of sports scholarship, some want to leave Clover and go from there, and others want to become business owners. But as far as I was concerned, I was the only one who didn't know where the hell she was going after high school.

Maybe I want to be an editor in a big city, or a novelist in a small town like Clover. Maybe I even want to own a publishing company or at least work for one. Every day's thoughts towards my future was different. I wanted to be something different every day that had to deal with writing.

Lunch was almost over as I sat under one of the courtyard's trees, my back to the old bark with a half-eaten Golden Delicious apple in one hand and in the other, a half-read classic – Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_. The weather was just starting to break from winter, so I had just zipped up my grey and sapphire blue sweat jacket.

My mind kept falling back to the school assembly the other day, about that Carson Phillips guy talking about a literary magazine and everyone getting a chance for their short stories and such to be published. I couldn't stop thinking about it nor the stack of filled composition notebooks of different stories in my closet back at home.

I knew nothing that I wrote would be worth it, so I tried to push his offer from my mind. It was bad enough having to deal with all of the hounding critiques during Creative Writing whenever we did 'Peer Review'. It was something that Mr. Randel had come up with as his basic lesson plan. He gives everyone a specific thing to write, everyone writes it in either short story, script, poem, or cartoons. I never dared to venture away from the short story category. Occasionally, I would do cartoons, but that was that.

I was always making mistakes. And yes, I get that everybody makes mistakes and that it's alright, most of the time, but with me, I made more mistakes then what should be called 'normal'.

The scheduled bell echoed from the halls of the school. I looked up from my book, and tossed the remains of my apple in the nearest trashcan after I got up and attempted to stuff my book away in my backpack.

If I had been watching where I was going, or maybe looked up for a minute instead of having difficulty stuffing my book in my backpack properly, I wouldn't have bumped into someone.

Panicking, hoping that they wouldn't be mean about it, my eyes widened as I looked over to see Carson. He looked slightly alarmed, but unmoved by my accident. He didn't really give me much of a look, but his eyes had glanced at me for a moment, probably to make sure I wasn't one of those annoying cheerleaders or jocks.

"I'm sorry," I quickly sputtered earnestly, my cheeks heating up deeply as I put my free hand to my cheek, an apologetic look spreading across my face.

"Whatever," was all he said as he kept walking.

I was left standing there, slightly appalled that someone other than a teacher actually spoke to me today.

I turned around and watched him walk to the school's lunch entrance where everyone was filing through.

I grew up with Carson. I'm pretty sure he's never noticed me like everyone else and wouldn't even know my name, but I know him. We had the same grade school teachers. After grade school, we were always put in the same math together. He always made math class interesting. He was always outspoken...different. But even though he constantly seems so angry with the world and depressed, he's very good-looking and has always dressed well. He was like most teenage boys and wore good-fitting jeans, a tee shirt, occasionally his blue jacket, but it was just his style that had always grabbed my attention. Why didn't he have a girlfriend? Surely there was someone who thought of him romantically. Maybe he was lonely.

Like me.

This was one of those moments when I catch my thoughts and furrow my eyebrows in a new track of thoughts. Why did I care? He was just another human being, another senior teenage boy. Why can't I just wonder about any other guy or girl?

I guess it was just Carson Phillips in general. There was something about him that just made me think about him more than I thought about anyone else.

I huffed a sigh as I finally manage to stuff my book in my backpack properly. Thanks to my over-thinking, I was now late to Creative Writing.

* * *

"How was school today?" my father asked over dinner that evening.

Dinner was always quiet. We only exchanged the same old conversations. How my day went, how his day went, how much lunch money I needed for school the next day, how I did on a certain test, what drama went down at his work, and what drama went down in my school.

He tried. And for that, I had to give him credit.

My mother died giving birth to me. I guess you could say it was some sad sob story, but to be honest, it's not. To know that I never knew her may have been a sad thing to realize from time to time, but I never knew her. I didn't know what she was like or whatever, so it wasn't something I sadly pondered on.

My dad and I were once close. Once. That was until I became a teenager and things between us grew quiet, calm, and awkward. I guess, in a way, I miss him saying goodnight or whatever, but we never said we loved each other. It was more how we knew we loved each other than us never finding it something usual to say to one another.

"Fine," I answered like I always do.

He just nodded his head and poked at his chicken fried rice.

"How was work?" I asked in exchange as I reached forward for a spring roll. It was take-out night for dinner.

"Good. We got a new manager, so things should be getting settled more," he replied in a rather cheerful manner.

I just nodded my head, taking a bite from my spring roll

"Any plans for the weekend?" he asked me.

I froze, mid-chew as I looked over at him from across the table. He never asked me that before.

"Uhm," I said as I swallowed quickly. "No?"

He shrugged as he looked up at me for a moment and then back down at his food. "Just...it'd be nice for you to go out, y'know?" he asked. Was that concern I heard in his voice? "With some friends or whatever."

My father was an average middle-aged man. He had balding dark blonde hair, grey-ish blue eyes, a simple mustache that was just...him, and he carried on a few extra pounds with him. He loved the color green and always made sure he was wearing one way or another. He screamed at the tv when football played and always enjoyed a beer every once in a while.

"Well, I don't really..._have_friends for that, dad. That's the thing," I murmured as I poked my chopstick at my bourbon chicken.

"Why not? You're smart and a good person. Why can't you come home past curfew on weekend nights or whatever like all the other kids your age?" He sounded as if he was a little frustrated now, and that scared me.

I just furrowed my eyebrows and kept my eyes trained on my food. "That's not me," was all I could only think of replying.

It was the end of discussion. As he opened his mouth to say something further, I got up with my plate and trash. "I'm going to go do my homework," I told him as I took my plate to the kitchen and put my trash into the bin, walking down the hall to my room where I closed my door and leaned against it.

I sighed as I looked over at my neatly-made bed that sported two stuffed sheep, three bears, three unfinished books, a notebook open to a half-written page with my Avengers pen resting on it, my sticker-cluttered laptop, and my untouched stack of homework.

I knew what my dad was trying to tell me. I wasn't normal like other teenagers my age. And I knew that worried him. What if something was wrong with me?


	2. Chapter 2

"_Well make sure to build your house brick by boring brick,_

_or the wolf's gonna blow it down._

_Keep your feet on the ground,_

_when you're head's in the clouds."_

_- Paramore_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The clapping was the same as it always was – the forced monotone clapping of my peers as I huffed a small sigh, walking away from the lectern with my short story in hand, walking towards my assigned seat that was cluttered with my pen, planner, water bottle, and phone.

"Alright, Angeline. I must say, that was your best short story yet," Mr. Randel commented once I was seated.

I froze and looked over at him, a confused expression on my face. Never had he ever said that to me before.

He read my confused expression and huffed a soft chuckle to lighten the mood. Others around me were either texting away on their phones, reading, or whispering with others about their own personal drama.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he told me as he walked over to my desk since no one else cared to give me their reviews of my short story. "Your structure is definitely better. And I like how you _showed_ the scene, not just told us about it," he said, emphasizing with his hands to the whole room even thought him and I were both perfectly aware of the fact that no one had been paying attention.

"Great work," he soon added with a satisfied smirk sent my way before he turned and returned to the lectern.

Just then, the bell rang and everyone shuffled to leave. It was Friday, the end of the nine weeks grading period, and early release day. All the lunch periods were pushed to the last periods of the day, so that would be my Creative Writing class after the first lunch block.

"Alright people. Make sure your rough drafts for your writing projects are turned into me on Monday!" he called to everyone. "Every day it's late is ten points. Let's not lose that much."

I couldn't wipe off the proud smile from my lips as I looked down at my story, getting to my feet and sliding the paper into my Avengers folder as I headed out the door. I lingered at my locker, making sure I had all I needed for my homework as well as what books from the small collection I kept in my locker I needed to take home.

Outside was still pretty cluttered with everyone who were leaving for home when I eyed the table in the courtyard by the parking lot. It was the literary magazine thing that Carson was talking about in that assembly some weeks ago.

How did he get full magazines so fast? I didn't think anyone would be interested in it.

"Come on, guys. Three dollars. Not gonna kill you," Carson called out to the passing students in a half-sarcastic, half-monotone voice.

Slowly, I halted to a stop nearby, watching as a passing jock opened a small bag of chips and dumped it onto the table. Thinking it was just oh-so hilarious, his friends laughed with him. One of them crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at Carson. I watched as the poorly-crumpled paper bounced off of his temple and fell to the earth. He didn't look the slightest moved. More bored if anything. Then, Carson leaned forward and brushed the chips off of the table.

When people finally cleared and nobody came up to the table anymore to humiliate him further, I watched as Carson and that Malerie girl begin packing up the magazines. Now was my chance. I wanted one of those magazines.

I walked up to the table and picked one up.

The atmosphere was silent as I smiled at the cover. It was creative. I opened to the first page to find a poem. Yes, I wanted this.

I reached into my back pocket and brought out my folded five ones.

I looked up at Carson to see him staring at me in confusion.

"Three dollars, right?" I asked as I motioned to the magazine with my money.

"Uhh..." I heard Malerie murmur.

"Yeah," said Carson, his voice flooded with confusion.

I pulled out three and handed it to him with an easy smile. I was surprised with how calm I was at that moment. I thought that maybe I would be nervous or something of the sort. But I wasn't. And that just made my smile a little more real than what it normally was.

He took it, putting it in the empty money box.

"Thank you," I said as I looked back down at the magazine in my hands.

I turned around and adjusted my backpack on my shoulder.

"Angel, right?" I heard him ask.

I froze. No one called me Angel. It was always Angeline.

I turned my head and looked at Carson with an unguarded expression. _He knew my name_.

"Yeah. A-Angeline, actually," I replied softly. "You...know my name?" I asked as I turned my body fully to face him.

He had just got to his feet while Malerie busied herself with packing the magazines away in the cardboard box they had nearby.

"Of course I do. You've been in every one of my math class since middle school. And you're in my Creative Writing class."

How could I forget? He was in my Creative Writing class. I didn't understand how I couldn't really remember something like that, but all that mattered at the moment was that I wasn't invisible. Carson was talking to me. And acquaintances or not, it meant a lot to me. A good way to end a boring school day...in my opinion.

I didn't know what to say, so I motioned to the magazine in my hand. "Is there anything in here yours?" I asked shyly.

He blinked, still looking shocked. "No," he replied slowly.

I shrugged and looked down at the magazine. "That's a shame. I was looking forward to reading something of yours," I told him earnestly as I looked back up at him.

It wasn't a lie. I was honest. Carson's work had always been more..._alive_ than what everyone else wrote. He had a good head on his shoulders.

"Really?" he asked in denial.

I nodded my head.

"Your work isn't too bad yourself," he soon said as he motioned his head towards me.

My cheeks surely went scarlet at the compliment. "Thank you," I murmured.

"Um...did you want to join the literary magazine?"

I quickly shook my head. "Oh, no. Thanks, but no," I said with a smile. I then motioned to the parking lot where my old light blue Ford truck waited for me. "I have to get going. But I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked almost too casually.

He slowly nodded his head. "Yeah." He then blinked and looked at the magazine in my hand, motioning his hand to it. "Enjoy."

I smiled again and nodded my head. "I'm sure I will," I told him as I readjusted my backpack and stuffed my leftover money in my back pocket. I waved at Carson and looked over at Malerie. If she had been looking at me, I would have waved and smiled at her too, but she looked like she was more interested in packing those magazines away.

I got in my car and started my engine as I looked at Carson. He looked to be in deep conversation with Malerie, which was something I never saw him, or even her for that matter, do with anyone before.

I backed out of the parking space and headed home.

When I got home, I pushed what homework I had out of the way. My father was working a few extra hours late this evening, so I just heated up some leftover pizza and finished off my can of Pepsi I started drinking this morning. After that, I sat on the edge of my bathtub and began reading what was in the magazine as the tub filled up with hot water. I could have used the shower my dad had in his room, but I felt too exhausted for a shower.

After my bath, I cuddled up in bed and finished the magazine until I fell asleep. My favorite was the short story that talked about how love was the most important thing in the world, regardless of the person. It was written by one of those jocks, which surprised me. It was so moving and got me thinking about love.

There were so many times where I lost myself in a good book about love. It was a great way to fill up the empty space of not having someone to love me like how the guys love the girls in the books or the movies.

But unlike other girls my age, I knew how to keep my expectations low of boys, how to keep my feet fully planted on the ground.

* * *

I found Carson at his locker. He had a notebook opened in his hands, looking in it with furrowed eyebrows, looking so pensive and concentrated. For a second, I told myself it would probably be a better idea if I didn't approach him, but I decided to buy the pony of my first thought towards him, which was to say 'hi'.

I staid close to the row of lockers, avoiding any close contact with the traffic moving at a steady pace. Once at Carson's locker, I waited a moment. When he didn't notice me, I had to clear my throat. It always seemed to work.

Slowly, he looked over at me, his face confused. "Uh...hi?"

The smile I was wearing faltered, but I tried my best to keep it on. "Hi."

There was a moment of silence and we just stared at each other. It wasn't awkward, but it was just...there.

"I just...wanted to know if there will be a second literary magazine," I told him.

Again, that confused expression. I found it to be rather...cute?

"No," he said as he closed his notebook and put it away in his locker and closed the locker, now looking at me again.

It felt natural as we began moving into the traffic, walking together.

"Why not?" I asked.

I watched him shrug. "No one wants to write anything anymore."

I frowned. "Oh." This saddened me.

"Yeah..."

"That's a shame," I murmured. We were walking to lunch. We had the same lunch block.

"Really?"

I nodded my head. "Reader, in case you haven't noticed," I said as I motioned to worn, thick paperback novel in my hand.

I saw a half-smirk. "Yeah, I noticed. You're always reading something new."

If it weren't for the traffic, I would have froze mid-step while staring at him widened eyes. He _noticed_?

Being noticed by someone, even by Carson who everyone seemed to hate, was this big deal to me, but I didn't let it show. I just kept on a small smile, looking between my book and him.

The ale-cart line was nearly empty, so I awkwardly waved to Carson and left his side without a word. I hurried in the small line, bought an apple and water bottle. I went to head to the doors to go sit outside as usual to freeze at the sign of spring's rain. The sky was a dark grey, showing no signs of the rain stopping any time soon. I could go sit in the picnic area that had a roof over it to keep the rain out, but I'd hate to be eating in the atmosphere that the weather was giving the world outside.

I frowned, my figure slightly hunching down as I furrowed my eyebrows. Where was I going to sit now? I turned my head and looked around the lunch room. Not a single empty table.

Suddenly, Carson came up beside me and looked with me. "Want to sit with me?" he asked as he motioned to the table with his messenger bag and pile of books.

I couldn't help but smile, nodding my head. "That'd be great," I replied.

I followed him to his table and sit down in the chair opposite of him. Together, our stuff cluttered the table, only making room for our food and whatever we were going to be doing while we ate.

Carson got out a pen and notebook, going straight to writing as he chewed on his chips. I, on the other hand, bit into my apple ad went straight to reading my book. We ate like that for the whole period, just silence. It was comforting, knowing that there was someone who was okay with me being there, someone who was _aware_ of me. There were a few times when I felt as if I was being watched, other times when I looked up to watch Carson.

I could get used to this.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**So I'm aware that in the movie, Carson went through all this drama more towards the middle of the year, but I wanted to change that around, just an FYI.

Big thanks to _colferobsessed_ for the correction!

* * *

_"Someone you have to let in.__  
__Someone whose feelings you spare.__  
__Someone who, like it or not,__  
__w__ill want you to share a little, __a lot,  
__of being alive."  
__- Barbra Streisand_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The air was warmer than usual with a bright blue sky and dry ground. I laid there, my hands behind my head and my earphones in my ears. I had finished my lunch earlier than usual, deciding to lay there and enjoy the moment of having nothing better to do than just lay there in the green grass of the courtyard and soak in the broken weather.

Carson sat Indian-style a few feet away, writing away in one of his notebooks as usual. He had his glasses on, staring pensively down at what he was writing. His half-eaten lunch sat forgotten beside his messenger bag.

The soft, melodic voice of Marina and the Diamonds rang in my ear as I watched the clouds up in the sky softly roll past me.

It had been this way for the past how many days, for Carson and I. We'd sit in each others presence, quiet and accepting. It became our daily school day ritual.

_Oh we don't own our __heavens, no, we __only own our hell. __But if you don't know __that by now then __you don't know me that well. __All my life I've been so lonely __all in the name of being holy..._

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I hard a muffled voice that I knew was Carson's. I pulled an earphone out and looked over at Carson. "Hmm?"

He was looking down at me, a relaxed expression on his face. But all he did was shake his head. "Nothing," he answered softly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "I know you said something." I gave a half-smile.

His eyes trailed down my lips as I watched him smile in response. It looked natural.

Soon, his face turned grave, sad. It alarmed me.

"You alright?" I asked softly. I turned my iPod off and took my other headphone off, sitting up as my long hair fell behind me.

He had opened his mouth, ready to talk when the loudspeakers announced that he was needed in the Councilor's office. He got up, saying something about college and left. I was left alone, watching him walk away with a sigh.

When the bell rang, I headed to Creative Writing. By the second period of Creative Writing, Carson still hadn't shown up yet. I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong with him. I waited a while, sitting in my car and staring at Carson's empty red convertible.

Suddenly I got out of my car, taking only the keys with me as I hurried over to where the school's newspaper was based at, an empty classroom that was only ever used for the study hall periods.

I found Carson there, stuffing notebooks into his messenger bag. He was red-faced, rigid, and obviously upset.

"Carson?" I asked in almost a whisper.

He froze and looked up at me with a tightened jaw. "Why aren't you at home?" he asked me in surprise.

"I was worried about you. Are you...are you alright?" I asked sheepishly. It was odd to tell someone that – that I was worried, let alone ask someone if they were alright.

He said nothing. He just closed his bag and flung it onto his shoulder at an angry force. "Got any plans at the moment?" he asked me instead.

I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head. "Uhm, no?"

"Great. We're going on a little road trip," he said as he walked over to me. I walked out and he came out behind me.

"Where?" I asked, suddenly excited.

Road trip with Carson? Hanging out with someone outside of school?

"The beach. I've never seen it before."

The beach sat about an hour and a half outside of Clover. I've never been there before and judging by Carson's act at the moment, he hadn't either.

So I got in his car, making sure I grabbed my cellphone and jacket from my car. I put my jacket in Carson's back seat as buckled myself in, setting my phone down in the drink holder as he put the car in gear and we were on our way. I left a message on my dad's answer machine, letting him know that I was out with a friend and that I didn't know what time I would be home.

We were silent up until he he slowed down after passing the Clover sign. He stopped the car and backed up until he parked in front of it.

Confusion flooded through me. "Carson?"

I watched with sudden fear as he reached behind his seat and grabbed his umbrella.

"Carson," I called out as he got out and rounded the car.

I jumped when he swung the umbrella at the metal surface of the green sign with a grunt. Something was terribly wrong.

I quickly got out and ran over to him, grabbing his wrists and yanking on them with all of my strength. "Carson, stop!" I yelled desperately.

He took a few more swings until he stopped. I stepped back from him, my eyes wide and fear still lingering. I jumped again when he threw his umbrella to the other side of the car.

"Carson," I said as I grabbed his wrists again, trying to make him look at me. "Carson, please," I begged shakily.

Finally, his soft blue eyes met with mine. They were filled with so much sadness and disappointment.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He said nothing as he walked over and slid down to the dirt, his back against his car. He looked fragile and broken...and that scared me.

When he began breaking into tears, I had no choice but to fall to the ground beside him and hug him. I wrapped my arms around his body to let him know I was there and caring. He leaned into me, melting into my embrace as I only held him tighter to me. He buried his face into my shoulder, his body shaking with the silent sobs within my arms. I gathered the fact that I had never really hugged anyone before. Maybe occasional hugs from my father on birthdays or Christmas, but that was really it.

I ran my hand over the back of his head, caressing him as I felt myself getting choked up with how broken and pitiful Carson was at the moment.

This wasn't right.

* * *

I raked my hands through my hair as the ocean's wind ruffled my long waves when I exited the restroom. I stared over at the falling sun and the restless waves of the ocean. It was beautiful. It made me smile.

I then looked over where Carson was. He was sitting on the hood of his car, parked in the sand and secluded in the heavy distance. There weren't many people on the beach and those who were were either playing in the waves or running around the shoreline.

I crossed my arms to press my warm hands to my cold upper arms, jacket-less as I walked over to him. The ocean's wind was soft and warm, but still slightly chilling.

I leaned in and grabbed my jacket, putting it on and zipping it up as I looked up at Carson. He looked so focused on the ocean's water.

But I didn't say anything. I figured that he would talk to me when he was ready.

I got back in the car, lounging sloppily but comfortably, my arms crossed as I watched the sun set with Carson.

"It's beautiful," I finally said after a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Carson said nothing.

I looked over at him only to find him looking at me with a soft expression, like he was trying figure something out.

"What."

He softly closed his eyes and shook his head. "Nothing."

There was a moment of silence, a moment where we just remained there, staring out into the ocean and enjoying everything as the sun slowly fell into the water.

"No one has...ever been here for me...like you have," Carson said slowly, full of meaning and sudden passion.

"No problem." I looked at him again, meeting with his eyes once more. "I've never had anyone to be there for," I replied softly.

"Did you know that I wanted to go to Northwestern after high school?" Carson suddenly asked me.

I rested my head back against the headrest as I continued to look back at him. "No."

"The only college I ever want to go to. The councilor says that I have to wait another two years to apply. Apparently I got accepted, but at first...I thought my letter had gotten lost some how," Carson explained to me, sounding so upset all over again.

"I'm sorry, Carson," I said apologetically, earnestly.

"And you know what the funny thing is?" He seemed to be waiting for my response.

"What."

"My _mother_ threw it away," Carson then said.

My eyes widened as I put my hand to my mouth, sitting straight up. "Wait, what?" I shook my head as I rung my hands together. "What kind of person would do that? Oh my gosh, Carson. That's so horrible, I'm so sorry." I shook my head my eyebrows arched up together as I leaned forward and put my hand on his back.

Carson moved over on the hood, patting the space now provided. I got out of the car and climbed up carefully.

"My mother said she didn't want me to be disappointed with life, she didn't want me to try and live my dreams only for them to be ruined or something of the sort." He was shaking his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip. "I can't remember the last time I had been this _fucking_ upset."

I put my hand on his back, rubbing softly out of instinct. He didn't pull away, which was a plus. Over the past years, he always seemed to have personal space issues.

"My gramma says that...I'm sad looking, that I'm so angry with the world. And then my mother says I get it from my father." He shook his head, looking beyond me at the horizon. "I don't mean to be so...unhappy with everything and everyone. It's just the way I am," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. I took my hand back, sitting Indian-style as I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling so upset with the moment.

Carson never talked about his family...he didn't even talk about anyone else. We never...really had this much personal conversation before.

"My gramma doesn't even know that I'm Carson. She suffers with alzheimer."

I leaned in and rested my head against his shoulder as my hand went back to resting against his mid-back. He seemed tense at first, but I felt him relax again under my pressure.

"At least you have a grandmother. All that's left is my dad," I murmured.

At that, Carson moved his arm so that it was around me, pulling me close. It was a shocking gesture – I never even expected him to do something like that, but I literally melted into him and I had never been held like that by a guy before. I felt safe, wanted, _visible_. But it was then that I began wondering what it was that Carson and I have. Was it a form of friendship? Or what...

"My father doesn't give two shits about me. And neither does my mother. I was just the backup plan – worthless."

"Don't say that," I quickly told him, slightly sitting back so I can look at him. He hesitated before he turned his face so his eyes could lock with mine. The sadness I kept seeing in those perfect eyes were starting to eat away at me.

"You're special, Carson. And though others don't believe it, _I_ believe it," I stressed to him as my free arm reached over and grasped a fistful of his shirt to stress further. "I was invisible, Carson. And you were the only one who saw me. In the few weeks I've gotten to know you, you've made a difference in my life."

He looked more confused and thoughtful than sad at the moment, gazing down into my eyes with softly-furrowed eyebrows.

"You can wait the two years, Carson. Trust me. Northwestern isn't going anywhere," I said as I sat up and turned my body so I faced him, my hand that once fisted his shirt now just causally resting on his chest.

"Two years wasted," was his reply. He looked away from me.

I bit my lip as I took my hands away, now resting them on my lap. "You need to be positive, Carson. You won't get anywhere being this upset with what has been happening."

He said nothing.

"My dad has always told me that no matter who you are or what you home situation is, there are always people who love you," I assured him. _Who knows, maybe I love you._

Carson's eyes met with mine again, staring at me for a moment before sighed, as if giving up with the conversation. His shoulders that were hunched up relaxed lazily. He got off of the hood and landed on the sand, getting in the car.

"It's getting late. I should probably take you home," he told me as he started up the engine.

I hesitated before I got off and got back in the car, buckling myself up. He drove back onto the rode as I pulled my hair back into a low and lazy ponytail.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** So I was told that the story deserves a better summary. I hope the one I changed it too is better. Just a notice, I'm waiting to get the money to buy the Carson Phillip's Journal, so when I do get it and I finally read it, I might end up rewriting some parts being that I'm still so unfamiliar to Carson's character. I'm trying my hardest to live up to the Carson in the movie, please know this. Enjoy chapter four. And thank you so much for all the reviews I've been receiving. It's what keeps me writing!

* * *

"_There comes you to keep me safe from harm.  
__There comes you to take me in your arms.  
__Is it just a game?  
__I don't know."  
__- Birdy_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

I was rubbing the back of my head, embarrassed and guilty with a red face as I stood before my father. I had just come after he had finished supper. He had cold leftovers left for me that I had eaten as soon as I saw them. Carson had offered to get me food on the way home, but I told him I would be fine. It was when the smell of the leftover food hit my nostrils that I realized that I should have eaten earlier. I ate in silence as he cleared up the trash, soon just standing before me.

He stared at me for the longest time before he said, "You're grounded."

I froze mid-chew of my last bite as I quickly looked up at him. My eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He made a noise and titled his head downwards to the granite of the kitchen island with raised and disapproving eyebrows. "As serious as the time that you came home tonight, Angeline May." He was using my last name. Of course he was angry with me.

I scoffed, trying to speak over top of my sudden frustration and anger. "You can't ground me. You always complained about how I never had a social life, how I wasn't normal."

"I never said you weren't normal." ___You basically said that__._

"And you never gave me a curfew," I accused.

"Because you never went out!" He closed his eyes and his lips formed a thin line as he shook his head. Then he opened them and looked at me. I saw a flicker of realization in his eyes. "It's a boy, isn't it? Who is he? I wanna know." The over-protective father I hadn't seen for years was reappearing. In a way, it was comforting.

I was quiet for a moment before I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at the floor. It felt weird answering this question. Why should he care who this 'boy' is? "Carson Phillips."

My father froze, giving me a confused face. "___Phillips_?" He sounded disgusted, which made me cringe.

I watched as he sighed unhappily and rubbed his hand over his face.

I frowned. "What."

"Please...just..._stay_ away from that family. They're nothing but troubled people. His mother is a complete mess and it's a wonder why her son isn't," he told me. He sounded so prejudice. I never heard him be this way before.

I slid off of the stool and walked over to him. "Don't _say_ that. You don't know him." And maybe I didn't as much either, but I did know that he was a good guy and that...I really like him.

"Of all the guys in Clover-"

"___Dad_!" I interrupted him angrily. "I am ___invisible __to the entire school____ and __town_. Carson is the only guy that has ___ever_seen me."

He looked at me for a long moment before he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, nodding his head silently. "Alright," he murmured. "Alright..."

I uncrossed my arms and slightly tilted my head, giving him a thoughtful look. What was he going to say next. I know him well enough to know he'd never end a subject or argument with just 'alright'.

"Here's the deal. You're off the hook if...he comes over for dinner sometime next week," he told me as he then pointed an index finger at me. "I want to meet this...Carson Phillips."

I laughed. "But we're not dating." My dad was acting like Carson was my boyfriend.

He gave me another confused look. "Angeline, you don't just spend that much time with a guy if you two don't like each other that much," he told me softly. He didn't sound angry or prejudice anymore. He leaned over and ruffled my hair as he moved past me, heading into the living room.

I was left there to my thoughts. Carson was boyfriend material. I just knew it. So maybe it wouldn't be...bad to think of 'what if' situations with him.

I huffed a sigh as I stalked into my bedroom, collapsing on my bed. I felt so tired, so exhausted. I still had homework to do and I still had to get my bath. It was already after nine. I was screwed.

* * *

At lunch, Carson and I were talking about our final projects for Creative Writing, in deep conversation about what we were going to write while we ate our lunches and wrote out our plot lines at the same time. We sat by each other, closer than usual with our backs against the tree we usually sat closest to.

By the end of the day, the sky was dark and cloudy while lightning flashed in the distance. That disgusting smell of spring rain hung in the air. I hurried from my class to where I know Carson would be (as usual) before I'd get caught in the on-coming rain. It still hadn't rained yet by the time I passed Malerie who had her camera in her hand, filming the area surrounding her and avoiding me, the rain still hadn't fallen. I stood at the opened doorway to where Carson was. He was typing away at the classroom's computer with that familiar bold-blue flash drive sticking out from the side of the monitor.

He stopped typing for a moment to look up at me with his glasses on. "Hey," he greeted, soon going back to typing.

I licked my lips and ran a hand through my hair, closing the door behind me as I walked up to the desk. "Look, I'd hate to be bothering you while you're writing, but I needed to talk to you about something quickly."

He motioned to the nearest desk. "Sit down," he commanded mono-toned.

I sat down where he directed and sat my backpack down beside my, folding my hands together as I waited for him. A few minutes passed as I sat there patiently.

"You're not bothering me," he said softly finally as he straightened his back and looked at me. "What's up?"

I wrung my hands together. "Look, my dad went spastic when I came home last night. He agreed to let me off the hook on one condition," I told him carefully.

Carson made a face and motioned with his hand, telling me to keep going.

"He wants you over for dinner sometime next week."

He didn't seemed fazed. "Alright..." he mumbled with a quick shrug of his shoulders. He went back to typing.

I let out a short sigh. "That's it? No-"

"Look, I understand. Your dad, I'm assuming, has a problem with my family. I wouldn't blame him," Carson said as he kept typing.

I sat back in my seat, my arms crossed over my chest. "Alright then. Um. How's Wednesday?"

"Fine by me. I never have any plans besides the school newspaper and homework," he said, still typing. He pressed a button, stopping with his typing as all of a sudden, the nearby printer started up and began spewing out printed pages. His story, I was guessing.

He got up and walked over to the printer.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He shook his head as he pulled out the pages. "No. Do you think you can help me though?" Carson asked me instead.

Carson was different. Like he wasn't as upset as he was yesterday. It felt great to see this.

"Sure. What do you need help with?" I asked him as I got up and walked over to him. He was setting the printed pages on a nearby desk as he refilled the printer with blank paper and it kept printing.

"Can you help me with folding these?" he asked as he motioned to the pages.

Without saying anything, I sat down at the desk and began folding just like he had asked.

"Did your mom say anything?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Nope. Giving her the silent treatment," Carson answered casually but with some sarcasm.

After all the papers had been printed, he began unpacking the hundreds of leftover literary magazines from the boxes and began adding my folded pages to them.

"What's this?" I asked as I continued to fold carefully.

"My own story I'm adding to these babies. I'm gonna donate them to my gramma's nursing home. It was a last-minute decision," Carson said as he continued to load them up.

When everything was ready and he had reloaded the boxes up with the magazines, I got up myself, raising my hands above me and bending back until my back cracked. I groaned with a yawn as I stood straight up again, looking at Carson, who was watching me.

He grabbed a magazine and held it out to me. Happily, I took it. "Can't wait to read it," I told him as I rounded him and headed over to where my backpack was.

"Angel, what is this?"

He still called me Angel. It was like he refused to call me by my full name. It was still weird.

I froze and turned to him, my face red as my heart began increasing in beat. "What do you mean?" I asked as I carefully put the magazine into my backpack where it wouldn't get bent.

"This..." He motions between us. "I don't know how to describe it," he said quickly as he shook his head.

A soft fear was crowding my mind. What if he didn't want anything with me? What if I was just..._there_. Someone he just got along with but never cared about. I gulped strongly and tried to hide the fact that I was shaking. "W-what do you want it to be?" I asked softly.

He stared at me for a moment, his face thoughtful. "I don't know," he finally answered. It felt like I had been holding in my breath for too long. "I just..." I looked away, waiting for him to continue as I zipped my backpack back up and flung it over my shoulder. I hesitated before I turned around to face him again.

"I really like you, Angel." He looked sincere. He walked over to me and my breath caught in my throat.

He moved closer to me and before I knew it, he brushed his knuckles against my cheek. I looked up at him, forgetting to breathe as I watched him carefully. My cheek felt like it was burning from the contact. _Electricity_. And then he was leaning closer and closer to me until his lips brushed against my opposite cheek. He moved back quickly, giving me a quick, promising smile as he moved away and grabbed a big stack from the opened box of magazines.

"I'm going to go take this to my gramma's nursing home. I'll see you tomorrow," he said rather cheerfully. He seemed..._happy_.

Lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up where the sun was no longer found. It hadn't rained yet. He opened the door and walked out.

I remembered to breathe, my chest falling and rising quickly as I watched him disappear. But it was the rush of adrenaline that made me jolt. I hurried around the maze of desks and out the door. Carson was just at the steps when I yelled for him.

I sprinted over to him where he turned around and looked at me with a confused face. _This is it_, I told myself. _Make your move_. I've never been kissed before. I didn't know what it would actually feel like. But at the moment, I felt like I could do anything. So I stood a few feet away from him, my eyes locked with his as I breathed heavily, suddenly nervous and scared. _I can do this_.

Quickly, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It was quick, simple, and just enough to know what it really felt like. His lips were soft. Softer than I had ever imagined a man's lips to be. It was almost as if my lips formed to his perfectly in those quick two seconds. I had moved back before he could even react.

His eyes were closed, but they soon opened slowly to look at me.

He was _blushing_.

I jumped and yelped at a suddenly loud rip echoing from the courtyard before the parking lot. Carson turned around to see where it came from as my eyes fell to a smoking tree that was falling to the ground. It had been struck by lightning.

My heart was pounding like crazy, I could hardly breathe. Carson then turned to look at me and there was something in that moment that Carson smiled widely and I did as well. And then we were laughing. It was the first time I ever heard him laugh. It was beautiful and I loved it to bits and pieces. And his smile – I had never seen him smile like that before. It was perfect. _He_ was perfect.

In that moment, I realized that I had strong feelings for Carson.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** So I started reading The Carson Phillips Journal (finally), that means I've made some changes. Nothing drastic, just...changes. I'm sorry for the delay for chapter five. Enjoy the new update!

* * *

"_Baby, you're not alone.  
__'Cause you're here with me.  
__And nothing's ever gonna bring us down,  
__'cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you.  
__And you know it's true.  
__It don't matter what'll come to be.  
__Our love is all we need to make it through."  
__- Darren Criss_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"You like pizza, right?" I asked shakily as I opened the door for Carson.

"Well hello to you too," he joked with a small half-smile.

He walked in past me as I closed the door, turning to him. My father was just walking in, on the phone.

"Hi, Carson," he said more friendlier than I had expected. "What do you want on your pizza?"

Carson shrugged. "Anything but anchovies," was his reply.

Mt father smiled and nodded his head, turning his head back into the phone. "We'll get the veggie pizza...uh-uh...no problem...thank you." He turned the phone off and averted his attention back to Carson.

"Welcome to our house, Carson," my father greeted rather warmly.

It was weird having Carson in our house, let alone another human being that wasn't me or my father. We've never had guests over before. Ever.

An hour before Carson's arrival, my father and I had been running all over the place, making sure everything was tidied up. Old issued magazines were thrown into the trash, dirty dishes lying on the coffee table were thrown into the sink, books scattered throughout the dining room and living room were collected into a neat pile by the DVD collection...it was chaotic, but soon died down fifteen minutes before we were to expect Carson.

Our house wasn't the greatest, but we took pride in making it presentable for both ourselves and for any chance of a guest coming to visit. The entry hall was small. You had a choice of the living room to the left where the flat-screen TV, old mahogany coffee table, worn brown leather couch, and computer was, the kitchen up front that also led into the hallway where the main bathroom and bedrooms were, or the dining room to the right that sported a simple upright piano, a random potted plant, matching mahogany table with the coffee table in the living room, and what my father said to be my mother's old chandelier.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to go get the money ready for the pizza-man," my father said as he pointed to the kitchen and disappeared. In a way, I guessed him to say that as an excuse to allow me some simple alone time with Carson. I predicted that the questioning would come during dinner.

Without a word, I walked into the living room and Carson followed me. This felt awkward...

"Uhm, can I get you a drink?" I offered politely.

He gave me a quick laugh and shook his head. "Angel, it's fine. You don't have to play Perfect Hostess."

I gave a sheepish smile as I shrugged my shoulders.

There was a moment of silence as I watched Carson sit down on the sofa, his eyes raking over the entire living room before falling on me. The memory of what happened Friday still burned into my mind. I still couldn't believe I had the guts to kiss him. Monday and Tuesday were quiet. We spent our lunches going over our Creative Writing projects more, but that was the only times we saw each other. That and our Creative Writing class that we had together. I was just thankful that the kiss hadn't made things awkward between us. I spent the entire week worrying and hoping I didn't ruin...whatever it is that Carson and I have.

"Just so you know...my dad's going to murder you with questions," I said as I sat down beside him. I changed my position so that my body was facing his and I had my knees hugged to my chest. It seemed to have always been natural for me to sit however I wanted to in the presence of Carson. We were that comfortable with each other.

Carson shrugged. "Fan-fucking-tastic," he murmured sarcastically. "I don't mind," he then said as he turned his head and our eyes met.

My breath caught in my throat from losing myself in his blue eyes.

"Good," was all I could think of saying.

We talked for a while. My father still hadn't come in to join us and I was guessing he was on his laptop in the kitchen, no doubt eavesdropping. Carson didn't seem to mind the whole situation, which I was thankful for.

The pizza-man came and dropped off our ordered Pepsi and pizza. We all gathered around the kitchen island, grabbing paper plates and filling it with pizza as well as grabbing glasses of Pepsi. We moved into the dining room and that was when my father began hounding Carson with questions.

"So Carson, what do you want to do after college?"

Carson looked at me and then at my father, taking in a deep breath as if he was readying to explain something complex and long. "One day, I hope to become the youngest freelance journalist to be published in the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, the Chicago Tribune, and the Boston Globe...eventually making my way to becoming the editor of the New Yorker."

My father raised his eyebrows, giving me an impressed look and then back to Carson. "That seems like a big goal," he said with a patronizing tone.

I froze and gave my father a wide-eyed look. "_Dad_," I scolded with sudden shock and embarrassment. I can't believe Carson had to hear that from my father. First his mother, now my father.

I looked at Carson and saw him smile sarcastically. "You asked, sir. I answered honestly."

My eyes widened further at Carson's response. That must have taken a lot of nerve.

I looked to my father, seeing an amused expression on his face. "You're right. I apologize if I offended you."

I mentally collapsed to the floor with relief.

"Angeline here wants to get some of her books published and eventually become and editor," said my father.

Carson looked at me and gave me the you-didn't-tell-me-this look. I responded with a guilty expression.

"But she says she wants to wait a few years before college."

Carson gave me a surprised look.

"I just want to wait a few years to save up more for college. I don't want to be in any debt or worry about any form of money problems," I explained to Carson.

He nodded his head considerately, visibly understanding my means. Not everyone was okay with student debt or any form of college-related debt. I most certainly wasn't.

When the pizza was gone, we remained sitting around the table, now discussing school with my father, which was rather weird. I never gave my father details about that too, and I could read how weird and different this was for my father when I looked at his face.

Before we realized it, the clock on the wall chimed, marking it at nine in the evening. Carson put his dirty napkin on his plate and got up.

"Thank you so much for inviting me for dinner," said Carson politely. "I think it's time I head home since I have school tomorrow," said Carson with a small, warm smile sent between my father and I.

"Well we were lucky to have you this evening," my father said as he got up next. I got up last. "You're welcome over any time – don't be a stranger," my father said happily as he shook hands with Carson.

"Angeline, why don't you show Carson out? I'll clean up."

I didn't say anything as I looked at Carson and smiled.

I led him to the door while my father busied himself with gathering up all the trash and taking it into the kitchen where he began running the water, giving Carson and I just enough privacy.

"I like your father," Carson said as he opened the door, half way in and out.

"Really?" I said with a soft, short laugh.

He nodded his head. "He really loves you." He looked at me for a moment before shrugging quickly. "Anywho. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for inviting me over," Carson said as he quickly leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

A part of me was disappointed. I wanted him to kiss me on the lips, not the cheek. But nonetheless, I still blushed and I still gave him a goofy, giddy smile as he quickly hugged me and he was gone.

I sighed as I watched him get in his car, wave, and drive off. I closed the door and turned to see my father standing in the archway of the kitchen, a dishtowel draped over his shoulder and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He was doing dishes.

"I like him," was what he told me.

I raised my eyebrows.

He walked over to me and put his hands on each side of my lower shoulders. "I'm glad that you have a friend, that you have someone to spend time with. For a while...you were worrying me. And to tell the truth, I'd be happy if you were seeing him. You should date, enjoy high school before graduation." He kissed my forehead quickly and turned around, walking away without another word.

_Tomorrow_, I told myself. _Tomorrow I'll talk to Carson about all of this_.

* * *

"Carson? Do you like me?" I asked ask I turn a page in my notebook. It had taken me half the lunch period to build up the courage just to ask him this.

Carson looked up at me from his notebook, his glasses on again. He raises his eyebrows slightly. "Hmm?" He blinked and shook his head once. "Oh. Um. Yeah, of course I do. Why?"

I blushes and looked away. "Just...wondering. I'm..._confused_ is all," I told him softly.

I could hear the curiosity in his voice. "Confused? What about?"

It was raining again, so we were stuck inside at our usual table. Instead of sitting across from each other, I sat at the seat to the right of him. I looked over at him from my notebook, my hand that was holding my pencil going still.

I was still blushing, refusing to look at him for him to fully see. "I mean, are we dating? What is this...that's what I'm confused about," I replied shakily. I was shaking, nervous of what he was going to say. And to be quite honest, I _hated _to be this nervous around him. It made me feel insecure and weak. And I knew it was weird because usually, I was comfortable and confident around him.

Carson had reached over to wrap his hand around my hand that was still holding my pencil. I looked over at him to see a small smile set to his lips and kindness flashing through his eyes.

"How about this," he started as he leaned forward, his eyes locked with mine. "Angel, will you be my girlfriend?" There was some sarcasm in his voice, but I knew he meant it. And the fact that he meant it made me smile crazily.

I composed myself, forcing my smile to shrink as much as possible as I straightened up my back. "Why, Carson, I'd be honored," I told him, followed by a small giggle.

He smiled with me as it then shrunk. "There's something else, isn't there?"

My smile disappear as I took my hand from his and shrugged, looking down at my half-written notebook. Carson made it seemed as if I were some opened book to him. He knew me so well in the short amount of time we have become good friends. And now he was boyfriend...

"Why don't you ever kiss me?" I murmured, picking up my pencil, shrugging, and going back to taking notes.

"Hey." The hint of concern in his voice made me look up at him again. "I'm sorry, but you need to understand that I'm not...one for PDA," he told me kindly.

It felt as if some big, huge weight had been pulled off from my whole heart. A big breath escaped me as I smiled again for a moment, before giving him a straight face, nodding my head in understanding. I understood completely. I should have known that he was that kind of guy, which makes me respect him all the more. It meant that he wanted to enjoy the best things in privacy.

"I understand," I told him simply.

He nodded his head, smiling again. "Good. Thank you."

I wish he smiled more often.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in updates lately. But I'd love to thank ALL OF YOU for the lovely reviews. To be honest, I keep expecting some harsh critiques about how the fanfiction seems rushed or something of the sort, but when I find it to be a nice review, it literally makes my day as well as makes me smile. So enjoy chapter six!

* * *

"_Odd one, you're never alone.  
__I'm here and I will reflect you.  
__Both of us basically unattached,  
__to anything or anyone,  
__unless we're pretending.  
__You live your life in your head.  
__Some call it 'imagination'.  
__I'd rather focus instead on anything except,  
__what I'm feeling, odd one."  
__- Sick Puppies_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

I stood before the doorway of Carson's room, weary. He had just sat his messenger bag down on his made bed, turning around to look at me, giving off a smile. "Don't worry. Nothing in here's gonna pop up and bite you," he said in his playful manner, as he leaned forward and grabbed my wrist, pulling me in with him and closing the door behind me.

"Now my mom's out, but not sure when she'll be back. She won't bother us since I'm still giving her the silent treatment," Carson said as he walked back over to his bed, leading me to sit down on it. Carson's room was..._clean_ and comfortable.

The walls were a comforting yellow, his twin-sized bed covered in a worn, striped comforter. He had matching nightstands on each side of his bed. On the left one sat a vintage phone and the other, a lamp and alarm clock. His closet door was cracked open, revealing only a sight of how clean it really was on the inside. Ahead was a desk with his computer, another lamp, a computer chair, and beside the desk sat a chest with books cluttering the top of one side. The other side of it was opened, revealing the notebooks within – probably his stories and journals. His windows were covered in a pretty blue-shade of curtains.

"Sorry my room isn't all that great," Carson said in a deadpan tone. I looked up at him again, seeing a faint smile at his lips as I watched him unload his messenger bag and toss it to the side of his left nightstand for use Monday.

I shook my head, smiling at him. "I love it," I said calmly.

To show him that I did, I laid back on the bed, making myself at home. The bed smelled of him. I could lay in his scent all day and never get tired of it. It smelled like fresh fabric softener with a very soft hint of a scent that reminded me of either American Eagle or Abercrombie & Fitch cologne.

I heard Carson chuckle softly and before I realized it, I felt Carson press his lips to mine. He had bent down beside his bed just to kiss me. My stomach swooped, feeling as if I was falling down a hill on a roller coaster ride. I loved it. I smiled in the kiss, soon feeling him smile in return. I absolutely loved the feeling of him smiling in the kiss, just to know that I was making him happy.

When he retrieved, I opened my eyes and smiled widely up at him, feeling like some giddy child in love.

"By the way," I called to him as I watched him go to his computer and sit down. He put his glasses on and looked at me, giving me his full attention. I sat up and scooted near the edge of the bed, sitting Indian-style, "I loved your story – the one you added to the literary magazine? The first line was the best. 'Once upon a time, there was a boy who _flew_.'" I gave him another smile. "How did you come up with such a thing?"

Carson looked at me with a faint smile for a moment before I got up and walked over to him. I leaned against the chest, still smiling down at him, waiting for him to answer me.

"Long story short...uhm...when I was little, I came to my grandmother with my first story. All it said was, 'Once upon a time, there was a boy.' Now, she said it needed work, so I worked on it some more and finally, I came up with, 'Once upon a time, there was a boy who wanted to fly.'" He grabbed my hand that I was leaning my weight on against the chest. He pulled me over to him. My heart was beating madly as he kept pulling me until I was sitting on his lap sideways. I wrapped my arm closest to him around his neck.

"What made you come up with it?" I then asked softly, just above a whisper.

He took his classes off and sat them down on top of a few folders on his desk behind me.

"You."

My stomach swooped again, my cheeks reddening at this news. It didn't make sense. His story wasn't about...romance. It was more of a letter to his grandmother. It was about him and his future. Not about _me_.

He must have read my confused expression because he gave me a lighthearted smile and rested the hand that wasn't wrapped around my waist on my lap. "You gave me the inspiration. My grandmother's pats words about the story just simply gave me something to write about. But you made me want to write and add it to the literary magazine." He leaned forward until our lips meant. We kissed for a moment longer than ever, my breath feeling as if it were being stolen from my lungs as our lips moved together in a slow, slightly erotic dance. When he pulled away, I tried my best to act natural.

I had to take a moment to breathe, to remind myself that I had stopped breathing when he kissed me. The kiss...I didn't want it to _end_, but we were in a conversation and I still had questions...

"Has your grandmother read it yet?" I asked him next.

He shrugged. "I haven't gotten the chance to visit her in a while."

My face turned grave. "It must be hard," I whispered.

"What."

"Having to see her and not be remembered."

Carson thought about my words for a moment, I could see it in the way his eyes flashed with thoughtfulness. "Sometimes it's hard. But it's the days that she doesn't mind my presence as a stranger that isn't so hard."

I sighed and tilted my head to the side until it rested beneath Carson's shoulder and jaw.

A smile found its way back to my lips when Carson reached up and brushed my bangs out of my face and then softly stroked my jawline with his knuckles. I don't think I've ever felt so happy before.

* * *

Carson handed me paper and a pen when I told him I was ready to start on my Creative Writing final project. I sat Indian-style at the edge of his bed again while he typed away at his computer. We sat like that, in silence as we always do at lunch time, just writing. Every so often, I felt his eyes on me. And every so often, I allowed myself a sneak glance at him. When I did look at him, he looked so intent on what he was doing, like it was what he should always be doing. Typing away at a story suited him well. I guess it was one of the many things I found myself in love with about him.

When I had the entire story wrote out, the sun was falling in the sky, Carson had turned on the desk lamp, and my stomach rumbled with hunger. I decided I would type the story out tomorrow so I can share it on Google Docs with my Creative Writing teacher. I folded the eighteen pages together, stuffing them into my backpack that I had sitting against the wall next to the door.

And right when I sat back down on the bed, the door opened.

My heart stopped as my eyes fell onto his mother who stood in the doorway. I had seen her numerous times at the drug store. She always wore a robe then. But now, she was more put together, like something had changed with her. I assumed that to be a good thing, for Carson.

"Carson, dinner's almost ready I-" She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes fell on me. "Oh...hello." Her voice went from exhausted to bright and friendly.

I smiled, flashing my perfectly straight teeth as I glanced at Carson, who had stopped typing to stare at his mother with a blank expression.

The polite and patronizing natural side came out of me. I got it from my mother's side of the family, from what my father has told me. I got up from the bed and held my hand out. "Hi, Miss Phillips. I'm Angeline."

She smiled and took my hand wearily, then shook it with meaning. "Call me Sheryl."

I nodded my head and then turned to Carson.

Carson had just got up from his chair, moving over to us.

"Will she be staying for dinner?"

"No," Carson said coolly. "I'm taking her to dinner."

That was something I wasn't expecting. Sheryl raised her eyebrows, moving out of her way as she eyed Carson. Carson had grabbed his jacket and grabbed my hand, pulling me away. I grabbed my backpack while Carson pulled me out of his room.

He hurried down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out the front door as I trailed behind him obediently.

"I'm sorry," Carson grumbled as he unlocked the car and opened the door for me.

"It's...it's fine," I said while being unable to help myself from thinking that he didn't need to apologize. I got in and he closed the door for me, rounding the car to get in on the driver's side.

"I just...I don't want you to spend any unnecessary time with her. I'm _trying_ to give her the silent treatment after what she did and I know you don't like her," he ranted quickly. His rant stopped when I rested a hand against his knee, squeezing it. He looked at me, his breath heavy with anger.

"Carson, relax. It's fine. Now, take me to this...dinner that I had no idea about." I gave him a quirky smile.

Carson seemed to have relaxed. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to take you on a date," he said softly as he put his key in the ignition and started up the car.

I smiled widely at him once more this evening and took my hand away, taking my phone out of my purse to text my father where I'd be tonight. He replied with letting my father know not to be home any later than one o'clock. I giggled, shaking my head. He finally set a better curfew for me. I was, after all, a Senior in high school who's just discovering what it's like to have plans with a friend, even my boyfriend, on a Friday night.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Wasn't it easier in your firefly-catchin' days?  
When everything out of reach,  
__someone bigger brought down to you?  
__Wasn't it beautiful runnin' wild 'til you fell asleep?  
__Before the monsters caught up to you?"  
__- Taylor Swift_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

The warm breeze of the Spring night brushed across my face as I just sat there in Carson's car. We were parked up high on an old tourist spot overlooking Clover. A crescent moon sat high in the sky as the scent of my Mexican leftovers sat in the back seat. Carson was holding my hand, warm and comforting. We both had our feet raised on the dashboard. After a moment, I shifted so that my knees hung over the car door slightly.

"Thank you for tonight, Carson," I said softly as my eyes moved to the distant lights of Clover before I turned my head to look at him.

Carson turned his head to look at me and smiled. "No problem."

I suddenly felt restless. I pulled my legs from the door so that they were planted normally before me on the car floor. I sat up, sighing as I grabbed my phone and looked at it. It was only nine o'clock on a Friday night – so it was early for me. No one had called me. No one had texted me. I wasn't surprised.

I heard Carson shift next to me, his body sitting in unison of mine. I looked over to see him watching me.

"What."

"You seem restless," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact way.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, just feeling restless all of a sudden."

Carson leaned forward and kissed me. I wasn't even expecting him to kiss me, but my eyes fell shut immediately, his lips gentle and prodding. I kissed him back, a hand going up to rest on the side of his neck. Slowly, the kiss turned more passionate and deeper. His tongue delved between my lips, finding my tongue and twisting against it. I sighed into the kiss before his hand tangled into my hair, cupping the back of my head and pulled me closer. My body felt as if it were in an awkward position, resulting in me crawling over so that I was sitting astride Carson's lap. My hands were cupping his face now, the kiss deeper than it had ever been. I was nervous, being that I had never done this before, but I went with it because I _wanted _to.

Carson's hand left my head and rested against my waist, the other sliding down from my shoulder to my elbow, then hurrying to take my jacket off as if he wanted to touch my skin. I let go of his face, shrugging from my jacket as my hands now tangled into his hair. His hands were touching the skin of my arm, causing goose bumps to rise upon my skin where he touched. A shiver ran down my spine at the realization of how heated this kiss had just become.

I had to pull away, breathless and begging for air with kiss-swollen lips. Carson's lips found my neck, kissing me there as another shiver ran down my spine. Before I realized what he was doing, he had found the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder and began sucking there. A hickey – I never had one before and had always marveled over what it would be like to have one.

Without warning, a soft moan escaped me as his hands now gripped my hips tightly, like he was trying to control himself. He sucked and kissed at the same spot while I had my head tilted to the side, enjoying the feeling of him loving me like this.

"I want you," he said between kissing my neck.

Something strange coiled within my stomach at his words. He wanted me. He wanted to have sex with me. And I wasn't even sure if I was ready to have sex with him yet. But I knew a part of me wanted him too, eventually – when I was ready.

When a dull pain began forming where he was kissing me, I was ready to say something about it when he pulled away. We looked at each other, our eyes wide and aware of the moment we had just shared and the way we were holding each other.

"Whoa," I said in a breathy voice, breaking the silence.

"Whoa is right," he replied, quirking a small half-smile. He leaned forward and pecked my lips before urging me off of him. I slid back into my seat, my chest rising and falling as my mind was all over the place.

He started the engine, looking over at me and our eyes meeting again. "Let's go see a movie and not watch it," he said out of nowhere, the words making me snicker.

I smiled and laughed. "Alright."

* * *

"Angeline, this letter just arrived for you," my father said as he walked into my room and plopped the letter down before me.

I had my hair down to cover Carson's hickey. Thanks to my hair's length, my neck was easy to conceal.

My eyes averted to the letter, fully aware of the address it came from – Michigan State. My heart suddenly began pounding inside my chest madly.

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?" my father urged.

I grabbed the letter, holding my breath as I ripped it open and pulled out the folded paper from within. I opened the letter quickly, reading the first few lines of the letter.

"_Well_?" my father continued to urge.

I didn't want to apply to any college so early. I wanted to wait. But both my father and my guidance councilor had basically forced me to at least apply to the colleges at the top of my list.

"Declined," I replied.

"Oh...well, you can always reapply next year." It sounded a lot like my father was _trying_ to sound hopeful. I gave him credit for that.

I forced a smile I knew he'd believe and handed the letter and destroyed envelope to him. "No worries. Just throw it out," I said simply, sounding as calm as I hoped I would. But deep inside, I felt a pang of deep disappointment and a hinge of hurt. I really wanted to get into Michigan. But as my father had said, there was always next year to reapply.

I felt my father pat my knee before he got up and left.

I let out a sigh, biting my lower lip before I reached for my phone. Carson picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," he said warmly.

"Hey – I just got my letter from Michigan."

"And?"

"Declined." I allowed the disappointment to show in my voice.

I heard Carson sigh on the other line in his saddened pitiful way. "I'm sorry, Angel."

I shook my head as if he saw me. "Whatever. I'll reapply next year. I just..._really_ wanted to get into that college. My last resort is Clover's community college," I said with slight venom with the words 'Clover's community college'.

I sighed sadly as I laid back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as Carson and I continued to talk, making plans to hang out over spring break.

* * *

The memory of the declination letter felt like it was burnt into my mind Monday morning when I walked into school with Carson. Carson had begun to pick me up for school being that we mostly spent time together after school anyways so we didn't have to run back and forth for my car. We stopped at Carson's locker – I already had what I needed for my morning classes thanks to what I had to take home for homework over the weekend.

Carson opened his locker and suddenly, he squeezed my hand. I looked up at him with a questionable expression.

"Hey, cheer up," he let go of my hand and tapped my nose with his index finger, giving me a smile he knew I wasn't immune to. Out of nature, a tiny smile crept at my lips in exchange for his smile that was nearly contagious.

"What if no college wants me?" I asked as I watched him drag his books out from his locker.

He closed it and turned to me, a concerned expression now set to his features. "Stop it. Don't say that. You are _talented_, Angel. Don't pay attention to it if you got accepted or not. You're special. And those pricks will be damned if they don't think so. You'll get into a good college, okay?" He kissed my cheek for reassurance.

I nodded my head, hoping that his words were true. He was so hopeful for me, and that I deeply appreciated.

"Let's change the topic to something happy," I mumbled.

He leaned against his locker and crossed his arms, looking down at me. "Oh! Here's a good one: Will you go to Prom with me?"

My eyes widened. "P-Prom?" I stuttered. "Are you serious?"

He gave me a look that answered my question. "Yes," I finally answered him. "I'd love to!" I jumped over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck tightly as he wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me close.

"Perfect," he murmured into my ear.

* * *

It was in the middle of the night, I knew it because I was just waking up, curled up in my pajamas under my covers and my room was pitch black. Carson's ring-tone was blaring in my ear, right from where my lit-up phone was sitting on my bed beside my piled pillows. I groaned, forcing my heavy eyes to open as I grabbed my phone. I had to suck in a breath, trying my hardest to get myself awake and aware enough. My alarm clock blinked 4:25 AM – it was on a Friday night.

I sat up in my bed, reaching over and turning my lamp on as I pressed TALK on my phone.

I looked over at my prom dress hanging on my opened closet door, its orchid and sky blue colors faint in the dim light.

"Hello?" I answered in a tired voice.

"Thank God you picked up! I've been frantic, I wasn't sure who I should have called..." The voice didn't belong to Carson. I cringed and looked down at my phone to double check my ID. It was Carson. And then it dawned on me. The frantic, desperate, shaky voice was his mother's.

"Sheryl, please calm down. What happened?" I asked as fear began prickling through me. Why was she calling on Carson's cell? Where was Carson?

"Oh my God, Angeline." She sounded like she was literally freaking out. Either that or crying and fear had flooded through me enough that I had to stand up and pace around my room, my stomach turning over in the worse way. "Carson was in a car crash. I'm at the hospital right now an- and..."

I froze right in the middle of my bedroom, my body going rigged as my phone fell from my hand and dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

I had to snap myself out of my terrorized trance to pick my phone back up and finish my conversation. "I'm on my way right now," I said as I shakily stumbled around my room, nearly ripping my pajamas off of me so I can slide into my black sweat pants, bra, and a random band tee shirt I had draped over my vanity chair. I put my messy hair up in a sloppy ponytail as I slipped into socks and my tennis shoes , immediately grabbing my jacket and purse.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Just a note. I am, in no way, knowledgeable of anything dealing with medicine, dotctors, and such. So everything in this chapter (besides the SBL characters of course) are entirely made up.

* * *

"_You can count on me like 1, 2, 3.  
__I'll be there.  
__And I know when I need it,  
__I can count on you like 4, 3, 2.  
__You'll be there.  
__'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do."  
__- Bruno Mars_

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The classroom felt empty without Carson in it. I sat where he usually sat, lounged back in the chair as the door to the classroom opened and in came Malerie. She had her video camera opened and rolling just as she always did. She closed the door behind her, pushing the glasses up her nose as she froze at the sight of me.

She aimed the camera at me, her eyes going to the screen. "What are you doing here? You're not on the Newspaper," she said in her mono-toned voice.

I looked away from her and looked down at the pen I had in my hands, I twisted it, twirled it. It was Carson's favorite pen. "While Carson's out, I'm taking over the Newspaper."

In the corner of my eye, Malerie dropped her camera down to rest at her side as she looked at me directly. "That would be me though."

I sighed and put the pen down on the desk, looking up to glare at Malerie. "Oh yeah? Tell me, do you have any plans for the Newspaper today, Malerie?" I asked her in a rather snappish-way in spite of the situation.

She looked stuck as she sat her camera down on a nearby desk, messing with it as if it were on and aiming at me. "I have an idea, actually..."

"Oh yeah? What's that." I asked her as I got up and leaned one hand on the desk to rest my weight on it while my other hand rested on my hip.

"I wanted to...put an article in the Newspaper about...Carson."

I slammed my hand down on the desk, causing her to jump as my anger surfaced. "_Malerie_. Carson is in a _coma_," I paused to focus on her, making sure she was giving me her entire attention. "He's not _dead_!"

She kept her expression empty, her eyes trained on me. "I know that."

I scowled as I shook my head, taking my hand off of the desk to cross my arms. "Here's some ideas. Prom's coming up, right? Add in a reminder. And you gotta let everyone know how Mr. Renner is retiring. He tends to forget to let his students know about it. Don't forget to put in the limo adds for Prom." I threw my notepad at her that had the suggestions on it. "Since you know how to run the Newspaper without Carson and all."

I grabbed my backpack and Carson's pen, storming out of the room. My anger was remaining within me – I didn't know if it was because of the situation or because I've had enough of people thinking they were better than me, even though it hadn't happened that often.

"Wait."

I froze and turned my head to see Malerie stepping out of the classroom. The stormy weather had sent a strong breeze through the area. My hair was put up into a high ponytail, but it was swaying relentlessly.

"What, Malerie." I tried to calm my voice down. I actually felt _bad_ for snapping her as I did earlier and practically was doing it now.

"Look, I'm left in the dark here. Okay?" She looked desperate, taking a few steps closer towards me. "No one has told me anything about Carson. So I don't have a clue what's going on with him."

I sighed, hoping my anger could be released within that single sigh.

"So...can you tell me what's going on?"

I looked away from her for a moment before I turned my body around to face her completely. "Carson's in a coma. He got into a car crash and...he had some massive head trauma. They're saying that he's lucky to even be alive. They say that the best they can do for him right now is to make him as comfortable as possible...so Miss Phillips is gonna bring him home. Doctors want notified in case of any changes."

Malerie nodded her head, looking down at the ground. It was the first time that I had seen her without her camera. "What about his memory?"

Fear crept up in me, in place of my anger that I had earlier. "They won't know until he wakes up," I answered shakily. "But I have to go. Miss Phillips his waiting for me."

She nodded her head and disappeared back into the classroom. I hurried to my car and drove to Carson's house where Sheryl was waiting for me. Carson was supposed to be moved to his home today, so I'd be able to finally see him.

* * *

Sheryl opened the door with a relieved sigh. "Good. You're here."

Ever since Carson's accident, her and I had been talking. Although I would never forgive her for throwing out Carson's acceptance letter and the way he told me she treated him, her and I got along. We began spending a lot of time together. On the night of Carson's accident, while Sheryl had waited for word from the doctors, she bought me coffee and nearly bought everything out of the vending machines. We sat in silence, then, but it was a comforting silence. I knew she just needed someone to be there with her and that person was most certainly me.

"Hi," I felt the need to say.

"So, I moved Carson into the master bedroom. He has a bigger bed now – thought he'd be more comfortable there. I was hoping that you'd help me finish setting it up before I run to the pharmacy." She sounded just as frantic as always, barely freaking out.

"It's alright, Sheryl. I'm here," I assured her soothingly.

She sighed as she waved for me to follow her. "What do you want for dinner? I can make chicken with mashed potatoes and broccoli or..."

"Anything's fine," I told her, my stomach growling at the mention of food.

I followed into the bedroom at the end of the hallway – Carson's new room. His things sat piled up against the wall, the closet opened to show his clothes in there. It felt empty. But then my eyes laid on Carson, who sat on a blue bed, hooked up to a machine that showed the steady beat of his comatose heart.

I felt like my world came crashing down around me, tears prickling at my eyes.

"The doctors said he could wake up any time..."

I hesitated for a moment before I looked at her, nodding my head. "Sheryl, I got this. I remember how Carson had his room – I know how he wants it. Don't you worry," I said, giving her a small smile in hopes of lightening the mood.

She stood there quietly after setting the cream back down on the nightstand. She looked at me, smiling back as she nodded her head in understanding.

She sucked in a breath and put her hands on her hips. "Well I'd better go to the store then. I'll be out for a few hours so if you ever need anything, you have my cell phone number..."

I nodded my head, following her out the door, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

"Remember, if you need anything, just let me know." I just nodded my head, watching her leave.

I sighed in the eerie silence, looking around the quite house.

After standing there for what must have been a long time, I walked back into Carson's room. I took about half an hour putting his room into a setting close to the one he had in his old room. When the room grew dark, I turned on the nightstand's lamp which casted a soft and warm glow about the room. I looked at Carson's body and then at the monitor.

I felt..._scared_.

And finally, I allowed myself to break, but not too hard. I crawled onto the bed, sniffling softly as I allowed only quite sobs escape me. Careful of the cords connected to Carson's skin, I wrapped an arm around his abdomen, letting my other arm lay there between my body and his, and rested my head on his shoulder. His quiet breathing was what made me feel all the more empty and scared. I wanted him to hold me close and tell me that everything was going to be okay.

What if Carson never woke up?

What if he woke up and didn't remember me?

What if he woke up and didn't remember himself?

I tangled my legs around the leg closest to me, hoping it would help make me feel better. It only did slightly.

"I love you," I whispered shakily.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to update! Things have been so unbearably crazy! But you have no idea how much I'm appreciating all the lovely reviews, guys! Keep them coming! I live off them. Anyways. Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

"_Darkness creeps into daylight.  
You're leaving.  
Treasures hidden in our mind.  
The memories.  
The time we had was fleeting.  
The strength is just believing now."_

_- Red_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

I flinched, closing my eyes as the bang of my father's fist echoed through the kitchen. My eyes opened, watery, as I gazed down at the report card facing me.

"God dammit, Angeline. What the hell do you think you're doing?" he nearly yelled. I forced myself to look at him. Just for a moment before it'd be too late. His face was red – he was pissed off at me. My bottom lip trembled.

I had only seen my father angry once in my lifetime. That was when I had just learned to ride a bike. I was so excited that I wanted to go farther than my father would let me. So I did. I think he was more scared than angry that something bad would have happened to me because I wasn't in his eyesight, but he was still angry. It scared me just as much as it scared me now.

A tear escaped as I looked at the Cs and Ds on my report card. Never in my life had I received such bad grades. How could I have let myself get so low? What had happened to me that could make me become so unfocused and out of it?

Oh right.

My boyfriend was in a comma.

It had been a month, two and a half weeks by now.

I always got good grades. The teachers loved me. But now, things were all out of control. My _life_ was out of control.

_I need Carson._

I sniffed and quickly wiped the tear from mid-cheek with the back of my wrist, refusing to look up at him now.

"You're ruining any chance of getting into any college you want. Do you honestly want that, Angeline? Because I know _I _don't."

_Fuck you_.

I sucked in a shaky breath, trying my hardest to control the crying but my throat and eyes were burning with the crying sensation that wanted to be released.

"Do you need tutored? Because I can call people-"

I shook my head quickly, blinking more tears away. "No."

"Then what is it?" His voice had gone from angry to a worrisome desperation.

I turned my back to him as I grabbed my jacket off of the kitchen island. "I'm going to be late for school," I said as I slipped my feet into my shoes and bolted out the door.

I hurried away, out to my car where I sped out of the driveway and to the half-filled school parking lot. When I killed the engine and took my keys out, putting them in my purse safely, I broke down. I slammed my hands against the car's steering wheel, angry and lost. I gripped it knuckles white, my body shaking with a range of mixed emotions: despair, sadness, craziness, anger, lost... This wasn't how my Senior year was supposed to go. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with Carson. What if he never...

I could hardly bare to think about it anymore.

I had no choice but to skip school that day. What use was for me to be in school and be disabled to pay attention. I couldn't _think_. There was nothing to do but head to the beach.

* * *

It was prom night.

I should've be there, dancing with people I'm friendly with and enjoy being all dolled up for once pointless night. But I wasn't. I was with Carson.

I had controlled the tears by then. I laid beside him on his bed while Sheryl was out doing God knows what.

"I love you," I whispered as I rested my head against his arm, watching him sleep. I had convinced myself by then that his heart was still going. He was just sleeping. _"I love you too,"_ I imagined him saying back.

"Things are a mess. My grades are my worst ever..." I took his hands and safely messed with it as I continued. "I can't focus. I can't think, I can't breathe...I hardly eat anymore...I'm going crazy, Carson," I said with a sudden huff. No. I refused to let the tears return.

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around him. He was warm. That was enough. "I miss you, Carson. I need you. Please don't leave me," I begged, tears starting to pool in my eyes. I blinked and looked around the room. "Your mom thinks I'm depressed," I said with a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. I have no clue."

Moments ticked by. Not a single sound except for the steady, comforting beat of his heart monitor. It was then that I had spent hours upon hours laying with Carson, depending on the beep of his heart monitor. I preyed it wouldn't go dead. I was always hanging on the edge, waiting...hoping...

I sniffed. "I remember the first time I saw you." I smiled through the tears. "It was fourth grade. Mrs. Janson's class. We were talking about animals when you asked some weird question about ostriches." I was laughing, but I remained crying. "I don't know how I remember that."

I buried my face in his chest. He still smelled like_ him_.

"You were always the oddest little boy. It seemed that you were the only sane one among us. You saw things for what they truly were. People picked on you for that. But I always kept to the sidelines, watching you." I laughed again. "But not in a creepy kind of way, of course."

I looked up at his relaxed, sleeping face and I broke again. Racking sobs left me as my hand clutched at his sky blue tee shirt. "I need you here with me, baby," I whispered shakily.

With no response, I realized that I was used to it by now. I rested my head back down against his chest, closing my eyes as I willed myself to focus on the steady beat of his heart. It was the best there was at the moment.

By then, the sobs had stopped, but tears were still flowing from my eyes. "I was invisible. Not a single person had ever taken a second glance at me. But _you_ did." I said as I tried my hardest to stop myself from crying. I had been crying too much lately. I thought I'd have dried up by now, but I hadn't.

"There I saw you, lost and hated...and I wanted to be with you in any every way possible," I realized.

I curled my legs around one of his. "I wanted to know you, and I didn't realize that until now." I close my eyes, focusing on willing the tears to leave me forever.

It was true that I hadn't been eating much. I'd eat a yogurt here, a banana there, maybe some rice here. I had always forced myself to eat a little more than I wanted to when it came to eating with my dad. But I hadn't been sleeping either. At nights, I tossed and turned, restless and unable to find a comfortable position because all I did was worry for Carson, thinking that at any moment, I could get a call from Sheryl – good or bad. Bags began to form under my eyes. But now, sleep was hitting me hard when I realized that I was, for once, in a comfortable position. I my eyes grew heavy as I laid there, my legs comfortably wrapped around his one leg, my head on his chest with his arm under my neck, my arms wrapped around him, and my body comfortably nuzzles up against his. Not caring that Sheryl would find me that way, I fell to sleep.

* * *

Something was moving beneath me. In the blackness of unconsciousness, I felt it. A nudge. A twitch. Nothing for a while, and then it started up again. In my sleep, I groaned and nuzzled into the warm body beside me. _Carson, _I sighed in my mind. I knew where I was. I knew what had happened. I was just trapped between my unconscious state and my conscious one.

It began again. It was waking me up. Something was nudging my arm.

_Sheryl?_

_No. I want to sleep in his arms more._

"No," I grumbled in my sleep, my arms tightening around Carson. I was awake now, refusing to wake up. "Just give me a few more minutes with him, Sheryl," I sighed as I nuzzled my face into Carson's side. _So warm_.

The nudge started up again after a while, more persistent and rough this time. I slapped the hand away.

"Angel."

My body went rigged.

Was I dreaming?

My eyebrows furrowed before my eyes opened. It was dark with nothing but the moonlight and the faint glow of the nightstand lamp. Sheryl must have came in and turned it on. I could see the outline of an arm, a hand...connected to the body my arms were protectively wrapped around.

"Angel," the rough male voice repeated.

_He remembered me_.

I bolted upright quicker than ever, my hand resting on his chest as I looked down at him. For the first time in a month or so, my eyes connected with his beautiful hazel eyes. I missed them.

"C-Carson?" I stuttered.

He looked sleepy, but _alive_. I sucked in a breath, raising my hand from his chest to brush back his hair from his forehead.

"I'm here," I told him shakily as I quickly moved away from him and hurried to the door, quickly opening it as I peered into the hallway. Sheryl was just walking into the kitchen when she saw me.

"Sheryl!" I called to her.

She came running in an instant to find her son awake and alive.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Sadly, this is the last chapter. It's been such a wonderful time, reading all of your lovely reviews and writing all these chapters for you. Thank you so much, guys.

* * *

"_In my life,  
she has burst like the music of angels,  
the light of the sun.  
And my life seems to stop,  
as if something is over.  
And something has scarcely begun."_

_- Les Miserables_

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Avoiding my father wasn't easy, but at times it was because he was beginning to work over his usual scheduled time. Maybe he was avoiding me too. Either way, I know I had let him down. I had thrown all the chances of getting into any good colleges down the toilet with my grades. But is it really my fault that I honestly couldn't focus during the time? At all?

Some things...can't be helped.

Most people, nowadays, don't realize that.

But I find it ironic how just when Carson wakes up from his coma, something goes wrong with his grandmother. I had held Carson an entire night from how scared he was of losing her, regardless of the fact that she doesn't remember him.

I sat there, on his bed beside him, my arms wrapped around him as he just nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. In hopes that it soothed him, I had softly brushed his hair back from his face, even though it kept falling back into place every time.

When morning came, he sat in his bed, staring out the windows of the room that was still new to him. He was still unable to get over the fact that his room had changed along with the size of the bed. But he had constantly thanked me for making sure it was close to how his old room was.

I made breakfast for him. I wasn't much of a cook, but I was so used to making breakfast for myself that I was sure I mastered the arts of some cheddar scrambled eggs and some cinnamon sugar toast. Breakfast in bed was definitely a must-have for that morning.

His mother called to tell him that she'd be at the hospital all day, perhaps all night as well, saying she wanted to be there before and after Carson's grandmother's surgery. That left the house free to Carson and I.

After breakfast, I had ran home to freshen up, change into clean clothes, mumble to my dad that I'd be with Carson, and then I had hurried back to Carson.

I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair, my backpack on my shoulder, filled with some pajamas and beauty products for preparation of needing to stay the night with Carson. I wouldn't dare leave him in the house on his own. He needed company.

Most importantly, he needed his girlfriend.

I was just walking to his bedroom, when the bathroom door opened down the hall, I froze and turned to look at Carson to find him just walking out, water droplets trickling down his body from a hot shower, steam leaving the room, and a towel draped around his waist dangerously low.

My heart began slamming continuously against my chest as my breath caught in my throat. I had never seen Carson topless before.

And let's just say...I wasn't expecting how well the sight was.

He was toned just enough for his lean body-build. But it made him...all the more attractive. Attractive to the point that I found myself blushing hard.

He had froze, a handtowel to the back of his wet hair as his eyes fell on me. He read my face and a small, knowing smile stretched across his lips.

"Uhm..." _Awkward. What do I say?_

He was chuckling as he walked over to me, passing me as he walked into his bedroom. I was frozen.

He closed the door before me, but he left it open by a crack. I heard him open his drawers, I heard the sound of rustling fabric...

Then the door opened. Carson wore only his pajama pants, which, like his towel, were hanging from his waist dangerously low.

"What?" he asked as I felt him grab my wrist and pull me inside.

"I...uhm..."

"You're flustered." He looked proud.

Then his face turned serious. "Angel...I need to tell you something. And if I make you uncomfortable of any sort, let me know," he said softly.

It was just sunset, shining in his room. He had no lights on, but there was a small need for his nightstand's lamp to be turned on for how dark it was.

I could still see everything, though.

And maybe that was what terrified me after what Carson said next.

"I want you."

For a moment, I was paralyzed by shock. He wanted me. He _wanted_ me. Like _that_. And to know that someone, even _Carson_, wanted me like that, I didn't know whether to be filled with glee or...what.

"I want you too," I murmured.

He reached forward and unzipped my hoodie slowly, slipping it off and leaving me in my tank top. I had kicked off my sneakers earlier.

My breath had hitched and I began shaking when he leaned in and kissed me hard, pinning me to the door behind me.

That night, my boyfriend Carson took my virginity. And it was the happiest day of my life.

* * *

_3 Months Later..._

A loud laugh erupted from me when I felt the warm water of the ocean hit my side. I looked over at Carson, who was laughing that beautiful laugh I loved. He had his hands in the water, giving me proof that he had just splashed me.

Part of my hair was now wet, but I didn't mind. I was too worried about getting my bangs out of my face to realize that Carson was making his way over to me. Just as a wave came in to hit against my hip, he had wrapped his arms around me and twirled me around in the water. We laughed together.

He set me back down, my feet sinking into the warm sand. I turned around and immediately captured his lips quickly, teasingly, as I soon leaned back and laughed again.

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to him, pecking the tip of my nose.

"I love you," I heard him murmur.

Since he took me those months before, I had heard him tell me that constantly.

"I love you too." I tapped his nose as I pulled away from him giggling as I headed for shore. "And don't you forget it!" I yelled at him, turning around to see him standing where I had left him, laughing with a big, toothy grin that made his eyes crinkle up.

When we decided to dry in the sun, we had grabbed our towels from his car and found our own little spot. We laid out our towels, helped each other with our sunscreens, and then sat down, just talking like we did at times like this.

Groups, couples, and children populated the beach that day. The sun was high in the sky, sending a scorching heat into the atmosphere. Carson had a whole case of water bottles stashed in his trunk.

"Angel," Carson started. I looked over at him as I put on my sunglasses, smiling. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said softly as he reached out and took my sunglasses off, his eyes boring into mine.

I laughed out of joy and put my hand on his thigh. I did that whenever I was happy with things he told me and I had nothing else to say. He never minded.

I used my free hand to take my sunglasses back from him, tossing them to the sand by the tote bag with our water bottles and sunscreen. We had brought a small radio with us (how typical, right?) and it was playing the local station.

"I was so unhappy before I met you."

'Stay' by Rihanna was playing. How ironic. And just near the part that was the most ironic about this conversation. I laughed, tackling him down and singing along with the words to him.

"_Not really sure how to feel about it. Something in the way you move, makes me feel like I can't live without you. Oh, it takes me all the way. I want you to stay. Ohhhh...the reason I hold on..._"

He smirked and sang the next part. "_Ohhhh...'cause I need this hole gone._"

He turned us over so he was above me now. We laughed as we sang the next verse together. "_Funny you're the broken one, but I'm the only one who needed saving. 'Cause when you never see the light, it's hard to know which one of us is caving_." Carson had such a beautiful voice.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine before tumbling over beside me, now taking up my towel. We turned our heads and looked at each other and smiled.

"You saved me," he murmured as he reached over and stroke my cheek.

I shook my head, taking his hand that was resting against my cheek, holding it to my heart. "We saved each other," I corrected him.

* * *

**A/N**: A special drabble will be put up soon for Carson and Angel. But the drabble will be rated M for sexual content, if you wish to read it. I'm mostly just putting it up for my own amusement.


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